Is you Is or is you Ain't?
by kyoiku kanji
Summary: Sequel to "Canary on a Landmine" - It had been a long week for Marshals Shannon and Mann and from the looks of things they were going to be dealing with the fallout for months to come. Story includes Marshall/OC series will end M/M but that's a ways away
1. Chapter 1

**Is you Is or is you Ain't?**

Sequel to "Canary on a Landmine" - It had been a long week for Marshals Shannon and Mann and from the looks of things they were going to be dealing with the fallout for months to come. Story includes Marshall with an OC (the series will end being M/M but that is a ways down the line.)

**Disclaimer time: I do not own, nor pretend to own the characters of In Plain Sight. This work is not intended to contest said ownership and no profit is being made from the telling of this tale. (I'm just having too much fun to stop)**

**Isn't/Fake Is/Emergency backup Is/Agent Elder on the other hand is mine, and ... it's complicated.**

**I hope you enjoyed Canary and I hope you will enjoy the telling of this tale as well. **

**I hope to have a posting schedule soon, but I need to get more written before I can do that. This is mostly a teaser to keep your interest (and mine) until it's ready to post.**

* * *

><p><em>There are certain things I have learned over the years: keeping a secret from a friend for their own good, will almost always backfire; doing the same for a family member will backfire spectacularly; and never, under any circumstances ever utter the phrase 'it can't get any worse.' <em>

_While the universe, as a whole is at best indifferent, that phrase, no matter how optimistic its declaration, will ultimately result in things doing just that._

_'Worse' is a variable in our lives best set to zero and then left alone never to be referenced again. _

_- Mary Shannon_

* * *

><p><strong>Assessing the situation <strong>

**Late Thursday Night, early Friday Morning- Albuquerque – Sunshine Building**

Marshall sat at his desk staring at the report form as he tried to figure out where to start. The trip to Albuquerque had been thankfully uneventful and Is had been checked into a hotel for the night.

More likely than not, they would have to move her, turn her over to another team elsewhere. The ADA hadn't known where they would be taking her and logic dictated that they woulnd't take her to Albuquerque, which was exactly why they'd brought her here. She was under full guard until they figured out exactly what had happened and if she'd ever been the target.

Mary looked at him as she returned to her desk with a fresh cup of coffee. "So, how do you want to do this?"

Marshall gave Mary a raised eyebrow and shook his head as he fought to suppress a smirk. "There are so many ways I could answer that question…"

He paused reading something in his partner's body language. "But… most of them would end with you inflicting some kind of pain."

Mary nodded. "Good answer…"

"Can you handle the MOU with Isabelle while I check in on the investigation?"

"Of course I can handle it. But are you checking on the investigation or on Agent Elder?"

Marshall sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't wonder how she was doing. But right now—we need to know how compromised this whole transfer was. Is is safe for now, but we need to know if we need to move her again. I'd like head back to Denver and talk to Agent Elder… hopefully before the FBI and OPR get involved. They'll be looking for information on the leak and why someone wanted her dead… we need to know if any of that is going to come back on us or Isabelle…"

"And…" Mary prompted.

"And… until OPR takes over the investigation… O'Conner's our point of contact."

Mary was about to object when she realized exactly what he was saying. "You're afraid I wouldn't play nice with Agent O'Conner."

"No," Marshall corrected. "You'd play nice… for you… and with Agent O'Conner and that probably wouldn't be good for anyone involved."

Mary tried to comment but after several tries simply sighed, "Okay, but if he pushes you too far… I want video."

"I'm sure you do."

* * *

><p>Marshall took a sip of coffee as he reviewed the information Eleanor had managed to gather, both during her investigation and the copies of the FBI's investigation into the last weeks' events. The more he read the more he appreciated the work Stan had done to keep them safe.<p>

Warrants had been served on ADA Marlin's home and office but the results from the search had yet to be processed. The more he thought about how... intricate the plan had been the more he realized they were still missing some very key pieces. No one went to these lengths for a simple hit. The odds just weren't in it.

According to the FBI, Former ADA Marlin was willing to talk... if they put him into to program. He didn't know if he liked the idea of the Marshal Service protecting someone who'd tried, no matter how indirectly, to help kill two US Marshals, especially when Mary was one of the two marshals in question. The fact that he was the other didn't help much either.

Thinking about it he realized he did know exactly how he felt, but it was not his call to make.

Then there was Isn't. She was a puzzle in and of herself and he wasn't sure if he was ready to do any more than a threat assessment where she was involved. From what he'd seen of her in action it was probably the safest bet.

By the time he touched down in Denver, Marshall was ready to meet with O'Conner and discuss the case and his need to meet with Leigh... privately.

To his surpirse, O'Conner was waiting for him at the airport.

"Inspector Mann," O'Conner's greeting was professional enough, but Marshall could sense the caution behind the greeting. It made sense. He had his trepidations, but he'd seen how O'Conner had conducted himself when things really mattered.

"Agent O'Conner."

"To be honest I'm not sure why you're here. After everything you've been through..."

"You know the job," Marshall answered with a shrug. "Too many loose ends that need to be tied up."

"No Inspector... these loose ends need to be detangled before they can even come close to being tied up."

"That bad?"

"You only know half of it. Come on, I'll show you..."

Marshall gestured for him to lead the way, glad the man had opted to simply ignore the past. It was probably for the best.

* * *

><p>Mary nursed a cup of coffee as she looked at her report and shook her head. It had been a crazy week to say the least. She tried not to count the number of times they'd almost failed, almost died. She was all too aware that if Marshall hadn't pulled her down onto the seat of the Dodge Dart, she would have died on the scene.<p>

There were so many times…

She closed her eyes as memories threatened to overcome her. She remembered staring down the barrel of the sniper's rifle and the relief she felt when Marshall saved her… again.

She put her head to the desk as other memories came flooding back: Horst's people shooting Marshall… staring down the barrel of a pistol knowing she was about to die only to have Marshall manage to shoot her would be killer. Even injured, running on instinct Marshall had been there proving time and time again that he was indeed 'a bad assed lawman.'

She shuddered as she remembered the look in his eyes when Green had thrown the switch: the pained, almost despairing expression that had crossed his face and the rage that had replaced it when she was once again staring down the barrel of a pistol.

Part of her knew she should be feeling… shaken up? Angry? She wasn't sure what she should be feeling, but what she felt was secure and protected. All the insanity of the past week had proven one thing, time and time again: Marshall wasn't going to let anything happen to her as long as he drew breath.

She looked up when she heard the elevator open outside the secure door. It was Stan.

He took one look at her and her disheveled appearance and pointed toward the door. "Go home inspector."

"Can't... Isabelle's coming in to sign her MOU..."

"Can't Marshall handle it?" he asked looking around the office for signs of her partner.

"He headed back to Denver last night. We need to know just how botched things are and try and figure out how safe our witness actually is. "

"Makes sense… but I have established a good working relationship with Agent O'Conner… at least for now. I could have handled it."

"I know, I know … but you know as well as I do that they're interested in finding out what happened and building a case. We need to know exactly what we're up against and how this is going to affect Isabelle, us and our witnesses, and that means hands on."

Stan nodded and let his breath out slowly. "Alright, go over the paperwork with Isabelle, get her settled and take the rest of the day off."

"Thanks Stan."

Now she just had to make it through the MOU without collapsing from exhaustion.

* * *

><p>Marshall did a double take when O'Conner led him into the processing area. It looked less like an ongoing investigation and a lot more like a museum display.<p>

"You got all this from his house?"

O'Conner nodded. "We're still trying to figure out what it all means... We have curators and research fellows coming in from the Smithsonian to identify the artifacts and art work."

Marshall looked at a few of the pieces and tilted his head. "… and there's nothing on his financials?"

"Nothing that would indicate wrongdoing, no, everything is accounted for but these… these are something else..."

Marshall nodded and pointed to a vase. "Mesopotamian if I'm not mistaken…"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning: very old, very rare and most likely stolen."

"How old?"

Marshall shrugged. "Four.. maybe five thousand years?"

"And why do you say stolen?"

Marshall studied the piece for a moment then reached for a pair of gloves. He asked permission with a simple gesture and when O'Conner nodded he put them on and gently picked up the piece.

Rotating it he found a spot on the vase and put it under a magnifying glass, pointing out a thin line with one finger.

"The vase was broken, but notice how carefully it's been put back together? How there's no drips and missing pieces have been filled in with colored epoxy? This is the sort of work done by a museum curator, not a home owner, not some minor collector… this is a highly skilled and highly specialized repair.

And I'd say 'stolen' because no museum curator would let something like this out of his sight."

"That valuable?"

Marshall gave him a raised eyebrow as if to say, 'You need to get out more.'

Oddly the look O'Conner gave him in return seemed to say the same thing for an entirely different reason.

* * *

><p><strong>(Consider this the second part of a two-parter.)<strong>

**Please, review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Is you Is or is you Ain't?**

Sequel to "Canary on a Landmine" - It had been a long week for Marshals Shannon and Mann and from the looks of things they were going to be dealing with the fallout for months to come. Story includes Marshall with an OC (the series will end being M/M but that is a ways down the line.)

**Disclaimer time: I do not own, nor pretend to own the characters of In Plain Sight. This work is not intended to contest said ownership and no profit is being made from the telling of this tale. (I'm just having too much fun to stop)**

**Isn't/Fake Is/Emergency backup Is/Agent Elder on the other hand is mine, and ... it's complicated.**

**I hope you enjoyed Canary and I hope you will enjoy the telling of this tale as well. **

**I'm still working on a posting schedule but... I'm also addicted to posting... and so we come to the second entry.**

* * *

><p>Mary was on her third cup of coffee by the time Charlie ushered Isabelle into the conference room. She smiled and gestured to the seat across the table from her. "Go ahead and have a seat... I'll get your copy of the MOU and we can get started.<p>

As Isabelle took the proffered seat she gave Mary a worried look.

"Are you feeling all right Inspector Shepherd?"

Mary smiled at the concern in the younger woman's expression.

"Yeah Is, I'm fine... just a little tired and ... as you can see... we have a lot of paperwork to go through."

Is took one look at the MOU and winced. "A person could get hurt just carrying that thing around."

Mary had thought the same thing on more than one occasion, but Marshall had always been there to help redirect her energies to a more productive end, now it was up to her.

She took a deep breath and began. "Ms. Manning, this is our Memorandum of Understanding…"

* * *

><p>Marshall stared at the case file he'd been handed. If anything, he was more perplexed than he had been before. Marlin and Green had been working to the same end but aside from the text messages there seemed to be no connection.<p>

As part of his plea agreement, Marlin had admitted to feeding Green information, but other than his word, there had been nothing to tie the two men together.

A throwaway phone with Marlin's message had been found in front of the courthouse, but with the number of people who'd been there, there was no way to tie it directly to Green. There had been no finger prints on the phone or the battery. They were still processing it for DNA evidence, but Marshall wasn't hopeful that they'd find any.

Green had been a consummate professional. He had no ID, no hotel keys, nothing that could identify him or explain why he had been there. Eyewitness accounts and the detonator were the only things currently keeping his case from being purely circumstantial and he knew it.

Marlin on the other hand had been sloppy. While he'd had enough sense to keep his financial records clean they had found the artifacts and pictures of Leigh, not Isn't, but Leigh.

He shook his head as he studied one of the pictures that seemed older than the others. It had been taken in the desert.

It could have been Albuquerque, Death Valley or Mongolia for all he knew, but judging by the way her companion was dressed, he was guessing Iraq or Afghanistan. It had taken a second look to realize the woman in the picture was actually Leigh. It wasn't that she looked that much different than she had as Isn't, but the smile on her face was one of pure joy that seemed to light up the entire area.

Next to her, with his arms wrapped around her was a soldier in desert camo.

He paused, noticing the name on the soldier's uniform: Elder. One look at the pair and he knew they weren't family, they were in love.

He felt a slight pang of sorrow as he studied the picture and compared it to the Leigh he'd met.

The man was gone, out of her life, she'd lost him somehow he knew that much. The hints had been there, her taking the assignment in the first place; her concern for his and Mary's well being and very little for her own; the fact that she never once tried to contact anyone. He wondered if there was anyone other than her partner to contact.

O'Conner looked at the picture and pulled out his notes.

"Corporal Richard Elder… killed in Fallujah… four years ago," he said filling in the details they had. "Late husband of Agent Leigh Elder…"

Marshall listened as O'Conner read off the facts in a dry tone. These few words told him so much, and made him wonder what they'd stepped in the middle of.

"So, Marlin has stolen artifacts from Mesopotamian, which is now Iraq; the picture of an Army Corporal with his wife, a Corporal who was killed in Iraq and Marlin just tried to help kill his widow."

"Pretty much."

Marshall stared at the picture for a moment then tilted his head. "How did Corporal Elder die?"

O'Conner checked his notes and shook his head. "IED… "

"So… he was killed in the line of duty… and, if Green had succeeded, Agent Elder would have also been killed in the line of duty… "

O'Conner's eyes narrowed as he studied his notes and the information Marshall and gleaned. "It fits…"

"It's a theory… nothing more… yet, but I'd like to talk to Agent Elder about this... and what happened."

O'Conner focused on Marshall, studying him for a moment before answering. "… And you don't want me there…"

"Our investigations have very different purposes now and I don't want those purposes to get confused."

O'Conner nodded. "If you find anything that will help my investigation…"

"I'll let you know," Marshall confirmed.

* * *

><p>Marshall stood as an orderly pushed a wheel chair towards the door, his focus on the chair's blue haired occupant. Any concern he had for her safety had ended the moment he stepped into the hospital and asked to speak with her.<p>

He had been quickly escorted to a private waiting area where his weapon was confiscated and his id was checked repeatedly. More than once he found his self control tested as he forced himself not to react to being patted down and manhandled. He was eternally grateful that Mary was safe in Albuquerque since he doubted she would have restrained herself in the slightest, not after the week they'd had.

As it was he was tired, and his usually cool demeanor had been replaced by something more akin to that of a caged lion. Fortunately it was over with fairly quickly and he was led to yet another private room where he was told to wait.

While he waited he noticed the positioning of several of the guards and realized they were now guarding him as well. Watching them he realized that every member of the security detail was focused on protecting Leigh personally. This wasn't just a job for them: she was family.

As he stood he saw the slight bulge in the orderly's scrubs and realized that he too was part of the protection detail. When he saw the expression on Leigh's face he had to suppress a laugh. She was not enjoying the attention in the slightest and was making no effort hide her distain.

He gave her a hopeful smile. He wasn't entirely sure how to deal with Leigh in general and the idea of a surly Leigh was somehow scarier than a surly Isn't. When she ducked her head shyly and muttered. "I'll behave," he had to smile.

"I'll refrain from asking stupid questions," he promised as he wheeled her further into the room.

"It would be appreciated," she answered truthfully.

"I do need to ask you some questions and … some of them are going to be a bit personal," he warned.

"Isabelle wasn't the target was she?"

Marshall shook his head, relieved that she had put at least that much together. He knew she wasn't going to like the rest, but he hoped their experience together would help him broach the subject.

"No, as near as we can tell—it was always you…" he let his breath out slowly as he tried to figure out the best place to begin.

"Shoot from the hip, it's easier than skirting around the subject and I'm so tired of people talking around whatever's going on... just... talk to me."

Marshall looked at her and did just that.

* * *

><p>As Mary finished reading the last page of the MOU with Isabelle she studied the younger woman and realized another difference between Isabelle and Leigh's performance as Isabelle: Isabelle was having a hard time dealing with the concept of leaving everything and everyone behind.<p>

She wondered if that was part of what had bothered her. Then again, it's easy to move on when someone's shooting at you, you don't have time to think of what you're giving up because the possibility of having it all taken from you is all too real.

"No contact at all?"

"No," Mary answered. "No... direct contact. You can still communicate with them, but it has to be done through us. We have to make sure, nothing you say or do will lead people to you."

Isabelle sat stock still for a moment as she took it all in. Mary could imagine being told she could never see Jinx or Brandi again. She quickly suppressed the smile, forcing herself to think of people she'd actually miss: Stan...Marshall...

She let her breath out slowly as she thought of never being able to work as a marshal again, to never see Marshall again. Unlike Jinx or Brandi, the thought of having to leave her partner behind was... unbearable.

She nodded sympathetically. "It's a very hard thing to do, but you and your family are much safer this way."

"I know," Isabelle answered softly. "It's just..."

"It's a lot," Mary agreed. "But you can make it and Marshall and I will be there to help you."

Isabelle nodded then looked around. "Where is Marshal Miller?"

"Marshall's following up with the FBI to make sure your security hasn't been compromised by what happened."

She paused and noticed Isabelle was still trying to come to terms with the turn her life had taken.

"It gets easier," she assured the witness. "It gets easier."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:**

**Is you Is or is you Ain't?**

Sequel to "Canary on a Landmine" - It had been a long week for Marshals Shannon and Mann and from the looks of things they were going to be dealing with the fallout for months to come. Story includes Marshall with an OC (the series will end being M/M but that is a ways down the line.)

**Disclaimer time: I do not own, nor pretend to own the characters of In Plain Sight. This work is not intended to contest said ownership and no profit is being made from the telling of this tale. (I'm just having too much fun to stop)**

**Isn't/Fake Is/Emergency backup Is/Agent Elder on the other hand is mine, and ... it's complicated.**

**I hope you enjoyed Canary and I hope you will enjoy the telling of this tale as well. **

**I still have not posting schedule worked out, but I am trying to get at least one post in a weel... we'll see how that goes.**

* * *

><p>Marshall watched as Leigh reviewed the information he'd presented and pieced together the full implication of what they had learned about Marlin.<p>

"Let me see if I get this straight," she said in the tone of someone who really didn't want to believe what they'd heard and yet couldn't deny the truth.

"ADA Marlin, who I've worked with on multiple occasions over the last few years... quite effectively mind you… a man who has successfully prosecuted many of the counterfeiting cases I've worked: used our working relationship and my boss' good will to set me up and get me killed?"

Marshall winced. There was no easy way of describing what they'd learned. "That's what it's looking like."

"Why?"

"That's what the FBI and OPR are trying to figure out..."

She studied him for a long time before prompting, "and you're here because…"

He thought about her request and gave her an apologetic smile. "Which part do you want first, the perplexing, possibly disturbing or the ironic?"

"Surprise me."

He took a deep breath noting the exhaustion in her voice before replying. "He's willing to turn State's Evidence..."

She closed her eyes and shook her head as she realized he was going for the ironic.

"Let me guess, in exchange for witness protection..." she said as she opened her eyes and searched his for the answer.

Marshall met her gaze and held it for a moment before giving her slight shrug. "A lot of that depends on you... it's your job and safety he compromised."

She gave a heavy sigh and shook her head. "Damage is already done: he can't do me any more harm. That leaves who wants me dead and why and the answer to that question will determine if I vanish into the woodwork or join uniformed services. Either way, I still have a job in my chosen field. Well, not quite—if we don't stop whoever wants me dead… I doubt they'll put me on any protection details… kinda self defeating…"

She tilted her head and nodded towards him, her expression once again growing serious. "The real problem as I see it is what he can do to you and Marshal Shepherd. He knows enough to ruin your careers, your lives and the lives of those around you… not to mention certain aspects of your job…

Marshall's gaze sharpened. He hadn't expected her to shift gears so quickly. Sure he knew she'd look beyond her own situation but not this quickly. She'd dismissed what Marlin had done to her as past, and went straight to the threat the former ADA now posed to him and Mary. Unexpected or not, it didn't change the fact that she was right.

Marlin knew too much about what they did. Even if he were in the program, there was nothing keeping him from using that knowledge to his own advantage and he'd already proven how... malleable his moral compass was.

"I see you've given this some serious consideration already."

"Yeah well... it was either that or count ceiling tiles."

He smiled and shook his. The more he talked to her the more he appreciated not only the job she'd done posing as Isabelle, but the way her mind worked and her self-deprecating sense of humor.

"After the week we had, I'd be tempted to count ceiling tiles," he told her.

She gave him a direct look and shook her head. "No, you'd travel… what …450 miles? To do follow up work and make sure that your job is actually done… which leads us to the perplexing possibly disturbing information…"

Marshall's smile faded slightly. "Agent O'Conner's going to be here later on to talk to you but the last thing any of us want to do is blind side you… "

He could practically see her steel herself for whatever was coming, her gaze focusing on him with cold clarity.

"What?"

He took a deep breath before meeting her gaze head on. "Marlin had pictures of you…"

She relaxed ever so slightly an amused smile crossing her face. "What… he had a shower cam?"

Marshall shook his head. "Picture of you… in Iraq… "

"Pictures of me… showering? in Iraq?"

Marshall gave her a pointed look. She was not making this any easier.

"Marshall…," she began. "I go to Iraq... a lot… Counterfeiting is almost a national pastime in some areas and the linen content of their money is very close to our own which only makes their job easier. When you're one of a handful of Agents fluent in different dialects of Arabic, you're on the frequent flyer plan… you're going to have to give me more to go on here. "

Marshall drew a deep breath and nodded. She'd said to not dance around things and he owed her that much. "He had pictures of you… and your husband… in Iraq."

Her smile froze, her gaze sharpening into a pained scowl. "He… has pictures… of me… and Rick?"

He could almost see the life drain out of her as she sat back in the wheel chair suddenly looking totally defeated.

"Leigh?"

When she looked up at him, he realized how little he really knew about her. The lost look made him want to reach out to her, but he hesitated. She needed someone who knew her better than he did: someone who could anchor her and help her weather the emotional storm that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Where's your partner?"

She looked away for a moment then focused on him again. "They moved him as soon as he could travel. Keep us both safer."

He let his breath out slowly. "What can I do for you?"

"Give me a minute?"

He paused. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her alone, but he understood her need. "I'll be right outside…"

She nodded, not really seeing him as he left the room.

=IPS=

Mary watched over Isabelle as Charlie verified that her new apartment was still secure. She wasn't sure which bothered her more: the fact that it was Charlie working with her or the fact that there was every possibility they would have to put Isabelle through this a second time, depending on Marshall's findings.

Originally they were supposed to take her to Atlanta after the trial, but until they knew exactly what Marlin knew, and leaked, she was safer in Albuquerque where they could keep an eye on her.

She refused to dignify the man with the title of ADA or Former ADA, not after he'd nearly gotten them killed. No, he had done too much damage to them, to the legal system and to their witnesses to have any other moniker than 'scumbag.'

* * *

><p>Marshall stood outside the door for a moment, when he caught the gaze of the 'orderly' who'd brought Leigh to the private waiting room. The accusatory look the man gave him only confirmed his original assumption: these men knew Leigh and cared about her.<p>

He hoped that would mean they'd be able to help her through whatever ghosts the news of the pictures had summoned, but to a man they shook their heads.

The 'orderly' finally gave him a grim look and took pity on him. "Mike's the only one she'll talk to about it."

Marshall winced. The only person she would talk to about this was her partner and he had already been moved. That meant either leaving her to her own devices or going back in and being there for her… whether she wanted it or not.

One look at the lost expression on Leigh's face and his decision was made. He moved back into the room and squatted down in front of her.

"Leigh… talk to me…"

There was something in his voice that reached her, the combination of concern and understanding seemed to sooth her she met his gaze and recognized a sense of loss reflected in his eyes.

Something in that look told her, he'd understand.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:**

**Is you Is or is you Ain't?**

Sequel to "Canary on a Landmine" - It had been a long week for Marshals Shannon and Mann and from the looks of things they were going to be dealing with the fallout for months to come. Story includes Marshall with an OC (the series will end being M/M but that is a ways down the line.)

**Disclaimer time: I do not own, nor pretend to own the characters of In Plain Sight. This work is not intended to contest said ownership and no profit is being made from the telling of this tale. (I'm just having too much fun to stop)**

**Isn't/Fake Is/Emergency backup Is/Agent Elder on the other hand is mine, and ... it's complicated.**

**I hope you enjoyed Canary and I hope you will enjoy the telling of this tale as well. **

**I still have not posting schedule worked out, but I am trying to get at least one post in a week... we'll see how that goes.**

* * *

><p>Marshall wasn't aware he was holding his breath as he waited for Leigh to open her eyes. For a very long while she remained still, seemingly focused on simply breathing. Finally she opened her eyes and he found he could breathe again.<p>

He rested a hand on her knee, a gentle reminder that she was not alone and that he was with her.

O'Conner had arrived far too soon in his opinion.

She had just started to deal with the memories the mere mention of the photo had brought up before he was there, showing it to her.

He'd almost snapped then, between his lack of sleep and Leigh's general state O'Conner's approach was the last thing he needed. Oddly it was Leigh who had kept him grounded. It was as if, at least for the time being, they were symbiotic organisms: each supplying the other with something they couldn't produce on their own.

Oddly enough, in both cases it was stability.

"Ms. Elder..." O'Conner said, pressing her for information Marshall was fairly certain she couldn't give him. "We need to know what this all about."

Leigh closed her eyes and let her breath out slowly. Marshall was getting ready to stand and remind O'Conner that Leigh was the victim here, not the person who'd set it up when he felt her hand on his.

She patted it gently before forcing herself to look at the picture again.

He bit his lip when she traced the outline of her husband, her hand shaking ever so slightly.

She had been so happy in the picture and Marshall hated himself for putting her through this.

"madina al kuwayt... " she said without thinking, the words running together. After a moment, she gave both men a startled look. "Kuwait City... The picture was taken in Kuwait City "

Marshall could hear the resigned tone in her voice: it matched the exhaustion he was feeling.

"What were the two of you doing in Kuwait City?"

It was a reasonable enough question, but there was something in O'Conner's tone that seemed to lack any emotion or compassion.

Leigh gave a sad, wistful snort. "He was on leave: I was on my way to Kandahar to help reel in a counterfeiting drug lord. I had a three hour layover..."

She shook her head and looked at O'Conner. "No one should have a copy of this picture. My partner took it and there were only two prints ever made. My copy is next to my bed. His is on the mantle of his grandmother's house."

Marshall felt rather than heard the emotional shudder as she spoke and moved his hand to her shoulder, effectively giving her a small amount of shelter from prying eyes.

"Are you sure?" O'Conner's tone was one of disbelief, bordering on accusatory.

Marshall frowned at him. He had known that O'Conner was lacking in the people skills department, but he'd always assumed it was just his own guilt and misguided anger towards Mary, but this... this interview was making his dad seem sensitive and caring.

"Can we... dial it down a notch," Marshall asked O'Conner, trying to give him every visual cue he could to indicate that Leigh was close to overloading.

He sighed heavily when O'Conner seemed to take his signal to mean she was close to breaking and pressed for the kill.

"When did you hire someone to kill your husband?"

"Agent O'Conner…" Marshall's voice remained steady, almost soothing as he spoke, but the angry warning was obvious. "You question witnesses… you don't break them…"

For a moment it was O'Conner investigating Mary all over again, but this time his 'suspect' was present and Marshall could read her body language.

"You break suspects…"

O'Conner frowned slightly as he tried to figure out where he'd misread Marshall.

"Everyone is a suspect," he answered lamely. "Or didn't you know that people have a tendency to die around Agent Elder?"

Marshall shook his head. Part of him knew that Leigh could be playing him, hell, she'd been someone completely different when he met her less than a week ago, but he couldn't get that smile out of his mind. You just couldn't fake that kind of look… could you?

As he began to second guess his assessment, he found himself wishing Mary, with her 'built in B.S. detector," was there to analyze the situation.

* * *

><p>By the time Mary made it home, it was all she could do to make it into the house. Somewhere between locking the door and the bedroom she ran out of steam, deciding instead to simply crash on her couch.<p>

She was vaguely aware that she should put her pistols away, but she was simply too tired to move.

She never even saw the shadow that moved through the back rooms of her house.

* * *

><p>"How... dare... you..." Leigh's voice was ragged with emotion as she funneled all the pain and loss Marshall had sensed just moments ago into a seething rage.<p>

He turned slightly and on a primal level he felt satisfaction as he watched as O'Conner's smug expression fell. It was clear the FBI agent had meant to break Leigh, get a confession out of her, but instead she'd broken in a totally different direction.

Marshall wasn't sure if he should try and help her hold it together or simply hold the dust pan and offer to pick up the pieces what was left of O'Conner when she was finished.

In the interest of interdepartmental co-operation he opted to try and help Leigh keep it together, at least until O'Conner opened his mouth again. Then he found himself waging the mental debate again.

"And here I thought only Marshall Shannon could get this kind of mindless devotion out of you," he sneered at Marshall. "Or didn't you know that your friend here has a long history of 'losing' loved ones?"

The dustpan was winning.

He was about to say as much when Leigh pushed him away and tried to stand.

All thought of retaliation was shoved aside as Leigh wavered and tried to catch herself before her legs gave out on her completely: tried and failed.

Marshall caught her, but barely and as he tried to keep from overbalancing himself, he called for help. He shifted his weight slightly, trying to get a better hold, and noticed that she was holding onto his jacket, to him, for dear life.

Marshall shot O'Conner an accusatory stare before focusing on Leigh.

"Leigh?" He called anxiously.

As he tried to help her, members of the security team began to arrive. The first on scene was the orderly, who, judging by his actions, was also the team's medic and he was not happy with any of them.

He tried to pick Leigh up and put her back in the wheel chair, but she would not let go of Marshall's Jacket.

"Leigh," the 'orderly' called. "Doctors are on their way. We need to get you where they can work on you… you need to let go so I can ascertain your status…"

Although the orderly kept his tone soft, reasonable and soothing, Marshall could hear the worry in his voice. His own worry doubled when he heard answer. It was barely above a whisper.

"Status is I'm dizzy, disoriented… pissed…"

The orderly tried again to pick Leigh up, but he couldn't pry Marshall's jacket out of her hands.

Marshall gave him an apologetic smile and then gently picked her up.

"Where do you want her?

* * *

><p>"I thought you wanted me to press her... good cop, bad cop..."<p>

They were sitting in the hallway waiting for word on Leigh. He could tell she was fighting vertigo from the moment she stood, but O'Conner was convinced she was putting on an act.

"Why would I want you to press the victim?" Marshall asked enunciating each word.

"Suspect." O'Conner corrected him.

Marshall rolled his eyes and faced O'Conner directly. "Suspect? When did she become a suspect? Are you trying to say she cleverly hired an assassin to kill… her?"

O'Conner held his folder up. "Her background checks indicate…"

Marshall closed his eyes, doing everything to cut the man off before he lost any semblance of calm.

O'Conner stopped in mid sentence when he noticed Marshall was clenching his fist.

Anything he would have said was interrupted by the 'orderly'.

"Agent Elder wants to see you," he said shaking his head. "Both of you… " he added, but as they stood to follow he turned blocking their way.

"The doctor's say she's suffering post concussive syndrome and is prone to dizzy spells," he warned. "Upsetting her is only going to make it worse."

He stopped, but Marshall could sense the unspoken threat. 'Make things worse for her, and I will make them worse for you."

Marshall held his hands out to his side, as if to say he wasn't the problem. The orderly looked at him and gave a barely perceivable nod towards O'Conner as if to say 'he however is.'

Marshall's lips curled in a glum half smile of agreement. He was honestly beginning to believe the man simply had no people skills and considered everyone a suspect now that he was running the investigation.

"We'll keep this brief and non accusatory," he promised, although he was looking at O'Conner when he said it.

O'Conner frowned slightly at the exchange but followed quietly.

It was going to be a very long night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:**

**Is you Is or is you Ain't?**

Sequel to "Canary on a Landmine" - It had been a long week for Marshals Shannon and Mann and from the looks of things they were going to be dealing with the fallout for months to come. Story includes Marshall with an OC (the series will end being M/M but that is a ways down the line.)

**Disclaimer time: I do not own, nor pretend to own the characters of In Plain Sight. This work is not intended to contest said ownership and no profit is being made from the telling of this tale. (I'm just having too much fun to stop)**

**Isn't/Fake Is/Emergency backup Is/Agent Elder on the other hand is mine, and ... it's complicated.**

**If you haven't read Cannary on a Landmine, you don't have to to understand the story, but it does give you a lot more background and it explains why Mary and Marshall are a apart - consider it the second part of a two parter (and to be honest its the second in a series)**

* * *

><p>Mary woke to the feeling of a gun pressing into her hip and froze. She could hear something moving around in another room but there was no sign of anyone close to her.<p>

But then there was the matter of the gun.

She forced herself to remain still while she tried to piece together what had happened. She heard one of the neighbor's dogs barking, followed by the all too familiar yell of "shut up Peanut".

She was at home.

The pillow against her face was rough, so she wasn't in bed... the couch.

_'I was tired_,' she thought, vaguely remembering coming home and collapsing on the couch. That meant that the hard object pressing against her hip was most likely her own weapon.

'_Did I lock the door?'_

She vaguely remembered stumbling into the house and putting the keys on the end table. Habit would have meant she'd locked the door before putting them down, but habit also had her locking her gun away if she was secure, placing it under her pillow if she weren't.

_'My gun is in its holster, still on my belt_,' she thought thinking her way through what had happened. At least she was armed. She tensed her leg slightly and felt the familiar weight of her ankle holster. _'Duty weapon and hold out_,' she corrected, a small smile graced her lips.

The smile faded when she again heard something moving in one of the back rooms. She opened her eyes. It was well after sunset, but she could make out her surroundings through the light filtering through from the street lights.

When she was sure she wasn't being watched she sat up quietly and drew her pistol. She got up and verified that the door was locked before moving deeper into the house.

Part of her knew she should call the police, but she was a U.S. Marshal for Christ's sake. She couldn't draw that kind of attention to herself every time she heard a sound in her house.

She bit back the thought that shooting someone in her own home would draw attention, and moved on...

By the time she reached the back room, the one that had been Jinx's the movement had become more frantic. Mary rushed the room and threw on the light. She had enough time to register 'cat' before a black blur of fur rushed past her and barreled for the door.

Since she knew she didn't have a cat, Mary followed, pretty sure the animal had gotten caught inside somehow and now just wanted to escape.

As she neared the front door the cat bristled and hissed at her.

"Hey, Doofus," she scolded the cat. "You're the one who got yourself into this mess. This is my house..."

She reached the door and quickly unlocked it.

The cat looked from her to the door and back again. It tensed, seemed to shrink in size before launching itself at the now open door.

There was a blur of movement and then the cat was gone.

Mary closed and locked the door again, and then began searching for an explanation of how the cat got in there in the first place.

* * *

><p>When they entered the room, they found that Leigh was not alone. A man stood to the side, studying O'Conner.<p>

Leigh closed her eyes as if drawing strength, effectively cutting off Marshall non-verbal apology.

"Agent O'Conner," she said wearily before focusing on him. "The man standing next to me is Agent Alvarez. He is the closest thing we have to a lawyer on this detail and he has OPR on speed dial.

Agent Alvarez simply smiled, allowing Leigh to continue.

"If you even think of pulling that kind of stunt again, this interview will end and he will use it." She locked eyes with him, her expression unyielding. "Are we clear?"

"Do you really think that threats..."

Leigh tilted her head and scowled.

It was enough to stop O'Conner in his tracks.

The look was close enough to 'Surly-Neo-Pun-Isn't' that Marshall had to suppress a smirk. O'Conner didn't stand a chance

"OPR will be in on this soon enough," he threatened.

"Then perhaps we should wait for them," Leigh offered reasonably, but Marshall could sense the effort she was exerting to maintain that air of reason. He also didn't miss the way Alvarez seemed to offer her quiet solace.

"Which will it be?"

O'Conner clenched his teeth together, obviously not happy but finally he nodded.

"Now, we can talk." Leigh told him.

* * *

><p>Mary continued the sweep of the house checking every window and door, but everything was secure. There was no sign of how the cat had gotten into her house.<p>

She eyed her bedroom and realized that the evening's little adrenalin rush had left her on edge. She poured herself three fingers of whiskey, downed the shot and headed for the shower.

It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

><p>"Mrs. Elder..." O'Conner began.<p>

"Agent Elder," Leigh corrected him, a little anger creeping into her tone.

Marshall tilted his head, analyzing the situation. This was a side of Leigh he hadn't met before, but he knew instinctively that he was getting a good view of the ultra professional side of Leigh. He could tell from Agent Alvarez's expression that it did not come out too often but when it did, no one was happy.

She wore it like armor, keeping O'Conner at bay, keeping him from approaching her on a personal level. She was keeping everyone at a distance.

He'd seen Mary do it often enough, although Mary usually went for acerbic and caustic as a way to keep people at bay. Either way, it was the posture of a person who didn't want to get hurt... again.

"Agent Elder..." O'Conner corrected himself when he noticed Agent Alvarez had shifted forward slightly.

"Are you sure someone else couldn't have gotten a hold of the picture?"

Leigh thought for a moment then held out her hand. to Alvarez. "Can I borrow the phone?"

O'Conner started to object, but Leigh shook her head and held up her index finger in the universal gesture for 'Wait a minute'

Marshall watched as she dialed a number and waited.

He tried to give her some semblance of privacy but his curiosity was piqued who would she be calling at eight o'clock at night.

"Ange?"

There was a pause as the person on the other end spoke. Marshall looked up as O'Conner started going through his notes, obviously trying to identify 'Ange.'

"Yeah... I'm still having dizzy spells..How's Andy?" She nodded as she listened. "Good... sorry to call like this... No... I'm fine... "

There was another pause as the person on the other end was obviously contradicting her answer.

"Yes, Mom, I'm fine...geez... I need you to take the picture on the night stand... fax it to..."

She paused looking up at O'Conner, waving her hand to get his attention. "Fax Number?"

He seemed startled but as he read the numbers she relayed them to the person on the other end of the line.

"Thanks... yeah... it may have something to do with the investigation... no, you don't need my shrink on speed dial... I'll be okay... Yeah. Tell Mike I'm fine. Love to the girls."

She hung up and looked at O'Conner.

"Ange... " He began.

"Angela Danvers, my partner's wife. I've asked her to fax my copy of the picture to your office."

"I thought you said it was on your nightstand..."

Leigh sighed and forced herself to relax. Marshall realized that the contact with friends, people she knew and cared about, people who, in turn, cared about her was helping her relax.

"I've pretty much camped out in their guest room over the last year or four," she admitted finally. "To the point their girls call it 'Aunt Leigh's room.'"

"And Andy?"

Leigh blushed slightly and turned to Agent Alvarez but he offered her no support whatsoever.

"It's my nick name for my partner... when he's being especially overly nice and cheerful."

"But... Andy?"

"Andy Griffith...Mayberry... down home all American good natured cop? You'd have to see him in action to get it."

She looked over at Alvarez who was trying to suppress a smirk.

"Do you know any reason anyone would want to kill you?"

Marshall relaxed slightly as O'Conner changed the direction of his questioning. At least he wasn't trying to break her any more.

This seemed to relax Leigh more as well and as she dropped the ultra professional persona. He smiled as he and O'Conner were given another serving of Leigh's humor.

"Do you want the list alphabetically or chronologically?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes:**

**Is you Is or is you Ain't?**

Sequel to "Canary on a Landmine" - It had been a long week for Marshals Shannon and Mann and from the looks of things they were going to be dealing with the fallout for months to come. Story includes Marshall with an OC (the series will end being M/M but that is a ways down the line.)

**Disclaimer time: I do not own, nor pretend to own the characters of In Plain Sight. This work is not intended to contest said ownership and no profit is being made from the telling of this tale. (I'm just having too much fun to stop)**

**Isn't/Fake Is/Emergency backup Is/Agent Elder on the other hand is mine, and ... it's complicated.**

* * *

><p>Mary was half asleep when the phone rang. She groaned slightly and picked up her cell phone. A quick check told her it was Marshall.<p>

"God, Marshall... do you know what time it is?"

"Eleven," he answered in a typically matter of fact tone of voice.

"Any word on Marlin or how much he's screwed Isabelle?"

"None yet, although... O'Conner has an interesting theory."

"Do I even want to know what that man thinks?" She rolled her eyes as she spoke, knowing full well that although Marshall couldn't see her, he would somehow know.

"Probably not... but it seems after cleverly arranging for her husband to be killed by an IED in Iraq, Agent Elder spent four years in mourning before hiring a contract killer to take her out as well. "

"What? No.. Marshall... it's late I'm tired... I'm really not in the mood for playing 20 questions over the phone... Do we have anything?"

"Nothing so far," he summarized taking pity on her. "You?"

"Is is in a holding pattern, but the paperwork's in order... Stan sent me home... and I had a cat burglar..."

It took Marshall a moment to process her statement and then the questions came in rapid succession.

"Are you all right? Did the police catch them? Do you need me to come home..."

"Jesus, Marshall.. I'm fine... See... this is why I don't make jokes."

"A joke?"

"No, Marshall... I literally had a cat...break into my house... "

"A cat?"

"Yes Marshall... a cat. Four legs... fur... the works. I almost shot a freaking cat."

"Let me see if I get this straight: a cat... broke into your house... and you almost shot it. Did it talk to you?"

"I was not hallucinating Marshall. Unlike some of your supposed dates, the cat was real. "

There was a long silence before Marshall spoke again.

"Get some rest... I think we can both use it," Marshall said refusing to fall for her bait.

"Be careful."

"Always."

* * *

><p>Marshall gave his cell phone a suspicious glance as it went off. The waitress he'd been chatting with smiled at him to see if he wanted some privacy.<p>

When he gave her an apologetic smile and nodded slightly, she headed back to the kitchen to check on his breakfast.

"Marshall," he announced by way of greeting.

"Marshall Mann?" The person on the other end asked.

"How may I help you?"

"This is inspector Beth Petersen, OPR... I need you to come into the Denver field office right now."

There was something in her tone of voice that sounded like she expected him drop everything immediately.

"Which one?"

"FBI. Someone will be waiting for you at the front desk."

"Understood Inspector, I will be there as soon as I can."

"Right now." She repeated as if he were an errant school boy.

"Since I can neither teleport, nor defy the laws of physics not to mention the local traffic laws, I will be there as soon as I can."

Inspector Petersen was silent, almost to the point of belligerence before she finally answered. "Fine."

Marshall shrugged and closed his phone. After seven years with Mary Shannon, he doubted anyone could make him 'cower in his boots.' Then again- no one, with the exception of his dad could do it before Mary.

He signaled the waitress. Breakfast was going to have to be 'to go'.

* * *

><p>Marshall managed to make it to the Federal Building in record time, but judging by the attitude of his escorts, Inspector Petersen had been less than pleased with his application of logic.<p>

They led him to a conference room on the third floor and gestured for him to enter, making it clear they wanted to avoid the wrath of the woman inside.

Agent O'Conner was there as well, nursing a steaming cup of coffee and obviously trying to get his point across.

"Inspector Mann, so nice of you to join us," the woman greeted him, blatantly ignoring whatever O'Conner was trying to say. The venom in her voice was not lost on Marshall.

"Inspector Petersen I presume," he said, hoping to get through the entire section of posturing and jurisdiction wars as quickly and bloodlessly as possible.

She nodded as if to say 'good, you'll know where the axe came from' before launching an attack on both of them."

"Gentlemen... Do you think the members of OPR can't handle this sort of investigation: the kind of investigation we are trained to handle? Or were you just trying to 'save me some time?'

Marshall gave her a raised eyebrow as he did a double take. As he saw it, they were simply doing the basic groundwork, something that was usually helpful in processing a case since the first twenty four to forty-eight hours of an investigation were the most pressing and it took over twelve for OPR to get an investigator on scene.

"Inspector, as I see it there is no slight intended in any of our actions. I believe there are three, very different, interrelated investigations going on here and if we lose sight of that, we all will lose," Marshall answered without raising his voice.

She glared at him for a moment then shifted, her breathing slowed but there was still an air of suppressed anger that surrounded her.

As O'Conner prepared to step in, the phrase 'let the Wookie win' came to mind. Part of him was tempted to let the two of them duke it out allowing him to work with the survivor, but he knew that would be counterproductive. Entertaining perhaps, but in the end no one would win.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said weathering the OPR Inspector's ire with practiced diplomacy.

"Agent O'Conner's investigation is into the attempted murder for hire of three federal agents," he said without raising his voice or changing his tone.

"Your investigation is into the involvement of our former ADA in said case, and determining just how corrupt he was and whether or not he is the backstabbing conniving bastard we believe him to be."

He paused realizing he was starting to channel Mary and took a step back. Now was not the time for Mary-isms.

"My job is to determine whether or not my partner and I were compromised by the events of last week so we can do a valid threat assessment as to our safety and that of our witnesses."

"Your investigation, and O'Conner's have the most overlap and could very well be the same case, only time will tell. However, how those cases are dealt with is entirely up to the DOJ, to whom we all answer.

"You mean to tell me you have no personal agenda here," Petersen asked, a Texas twang slipping into her question.

He paused his eyes narrowing slightly. 'The Closer?'

He shook his head: now was not the time to get distracted.

"If you're asking if I take someone trying to get me and my partner killed personally?" He paused as he thought about that for all of about second. "Yes."

He shrugged: it was a given.

"If, however, you're asking me if I'm going to try and take over this case for a pound of flesh, the answer is no. My concern, my only concern, is making sure that none of this affects my witnesses, and if it does, that we act quickly to get them all safely reassigned before it comes back to bite us."

He tilted his head slightly, maintaining his usual degree of respect as he waited for a response. He was after all discussing a plan of action with his colleagues.

Petersen scowled slightly as she tried to figure out if he was telling her what he thought she wanted to hear, or was being completely honest.

Marshall's entire reaction to her almost accusatory look was a frown and a another shrug.

It became readily obvious that his comments and reaction were nowhere near what she was expecting and as such she had no idea how to respond. If she had been Mary, he would have smirked.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Thanks for reading. See you again next week (hopefully)**


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